As I sit and listen to one of my favorite radio shows, I find myself in a reflective state of mind. Once upon a time, there was this guy.... He lived in the shadows of my soul, with the exception of those nights spent with a drunk cowboy, out in my back 40. We sat out under the Texas stars, BS ing about life, love and swapping stories about the stupid shit we've done. Lamented about the ones we'd loved and lost, and all the bridges we have burned over the years.
On those Sunday nights, whiskey in hand, two broken souls found a little relief in being able to speak without words. Some nights words were not appropriate. We could just sit and be.
At times we spoke of the demons we have faut, and the times when the guy in the mirror didn't look familiar. Talked about Sunday mornings coming down. We shared how we figured the Man upstairs loved us in spite of our shenanigans, and how our lives were proof that He has a special place in His heart for backsliders like us.
These days, I wake up each day, with a few less regrets than before. That guy inside my soul no longer has to hide in the shadows.... He is out and proud, working each day to be, kind, humble and willing to take a stand for justice.
We all have a past, some more gruesome than others. Some days I miss that drunk cowboy and those whiskey soaked nights. I don't miss the hiding in the shadows, but I sure do miss that feeling that this old broken, damaged soul isn't alone.
I hope that that drunk cowboy knows that I love, and value those nights. I have spent a lot of time in isolation emotionally. But me and cowboy understood each other on a level that most will never know. So tonight sir, I raise my glass and say thank you for being a friend. Sorry things got sideways.
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